


Of Quarantine and Social Distance

by SpicyChestnut



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Modern AU, One Word Prompts, Romance, Wolf link - Freeform, hylink - Freeform, quarantainment, some nsfw, zelink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 6,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23277730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyChestnut/pseuds/SpicyChestnut
Summary: A collection of short, one-word prompts for ZeLink taken on Tumblr spanning several Zeldaverses (SS, BoTW, TP, AU). Lots of cuteness, fluff, and romance! Also a sprinkling of drama, angst, and NSFW. Written while in COVID quarantine, additional details inside.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 148





	1. Heated

**Author's Note:**

> Since my whole state issued a mandatory "stay at home" order to combat COVID-19, this past weekend I started taking one-word prompts as a writing exercise to fill my time and help entertain others stuck at home in quarantine~! This work is an anthology collection of those prompts, each piece a short drabble based varyingly in the Twilight Princess, Skyward Sword, Breath of the Wild, and unspecified Zelda-world universes. This may be added to over the course of my "stay at home" order, but I'll try to mark it as complete once I'm completely done taking prompts and have fully updated this work.
> 
> Hope you're all staying safe and well. Best wishes to everyone--and don't forget to wash your hands! ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breath of the Wild

She felt faint. Her breath was shallow, forehead warm and sweating, head thrown back limp against the rocks. But it was not the humid heat of the Goron hot springs which brought her to this state; or, perhaps more accurately stated, not the hot springs alone.

Link had boasted, as they lounged against the smooth limestone walls of the infamous pools, about his impressive lung capacity—a skill he had developed during his childhood in the Domain. He could nearly match any Zora underwater the time they could spend above water; or so he claimed. It was an outlandish feat Zelda could scarcely believe and openly scoffed at, Goddess’ chosen hero be damned.

Perhaps it had been the dizzying warmth of the spring which had spurred her to be so bold. She challenged him to prove it—a sly glimmer in her eye and a smirk on her lips; and prove it he was. His head had been beneath the water now for over a minute, nestled between her thighs as his hands pulled her legs apart at the knees, and she was quickly beginning to forget what it was she had been skeptical of in the first place.


	2. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breath of the Wild

There were many bodies of water on the castle grounds. There were ponds and lakes, slow moving streams and larger rivers formed from the bubbling crystal springs cascading over the cliffs as misting waterfalls.

It was in these bodies of water Link had taken to admiring her reflection on their many leisurely strolls through the grounds. On still days the water would act as a mirror, giving him a near-perfect image of her in the reverse. It was his guilty secret, one held too close to his heart. He would never be permitted to stare at her the way he stared at the water’s surface—eyes soft, gaze longing, lips turned up in the faintest hint of a wistful smile.

On windy days the water would ripple, distorting her reflection as though he viewed her through a sheer curtain. It did little to diminish her beauty, but it did serve to remind him that for all his longing he merely gazed at a ghost. Such was the vast social distance which separated them—he her lowly knight-attendant, she the Princess of Hyrule; for as much as he longed to turn and reach out to her—to hold her in his arms, he would never be permitted more than the admiration of her reflection.


	3. Consummate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breath of the Wild

He swung his sword with both ferocity and grace, its razor edge slicing through the air with utmost precision. The head of the training dummy which had been his victim wobbled briefly atop its wooden neck, then tumbled gracelessly to the ground.

He slid the master sword into its sheath and righted himself, shoulders back, spine straight, eyes facing his inanimate enemy with calm focus. His form had been flawless, each muscle tensed to execute the swing at just the right angle and with just the right force.

He was, in every respect, the consummate soldier: strong, skilled, and cooly restrained. She knew, as things currently stood, with the guardian project incomplete and her lacking even a whisper of her powers, that Link was the best hope for Hyrule’s survival against the Calamity. Though this knowledge should have offered her some measure of reassurance, it instead sat bitter on her tongue, and she couldn’t help but hate him just a little for it.


	4. Petrichor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breath of the Wild

“There!”

She pointed at a crumbling ruin. An old Zonai temple, perhaps, with some semblance of a roof remaining despite the centuries. He darted after her fleeing figure as the drizzle became a downpour, holding his shield over his head to keep the droplets from his eyes.

She was grinning as he neared the vine-enshrouded shelter, wiping water from her brow. He briefly caught her eye—turquoise and sparkling like the rain drops; then promptly stumbled over a root. He nearly landed atop her, hands grasping wildly for holds on the stone, managing only just to leave scant space between their bodies.

Her cheeks flushed as she met his gaze. From embarrassment or surprise he couldn’t tell. Her skin still smelled of sun, but mingled now with the freshness of rain and a soothing, earthy must. Unthinking, he told her so.

“Petrichor,” she responded breathlessly, eyes wide and darkening the longer they held his. “The smell after first rain. It’s called Petrichor.”

Neither moved. His heart was beating fast against his ribcage, his vision lost in her bright eyes; but he dimly registered his humor. _Petrichor. Of course she knows what it’s called…_

Then he leaned in, and kissed her; and once her hands found his collar, she kissed back.


	5. Hygge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breath of the Wild  
> Hygge (pronounced hue-guh): a Danish and Norwegian word for a mood of coziness and comfortable conviviality with feelings of wellness and contentment.

The pop-sizzle of dying embers in the hearth filled their quiet living room, blanketed in the silence of snow. Winter had come early and hard in Hyrule, subjecting the usually temperate Hateno to an atypical freeze.

But Zelda didn’t mind. After a year living rough in the wilds of Hyrule, Link had not spurned the luxuries home-ownership offered, which included a fully stocked winter pantry and firewood shed. And so when the unexpected snow came, burying them beneath three feet of crystalline white, they had simply shrugged and opened up their supply of dried meats and canned goods (All Link’s doing. Despite several years effort, she was still relegated to chopping in the kitchen), and settled in to await the spring.

She viewed it as its own kind of adventure. With all the free time she now had tucked away inside, she finally tried her hand at knitting and found herself to be quite a talent, much to her own surprise. In the evenings, they had taken to sitting side by side in their respective armchairs before the fire, each with their own projects: Zelda with her knitting atop a blanket on her lap, and Link with his latest whittling block ever-turning in his hands.

This night was no different. The house was fire-warmed, the remaining embers glowing red against the brick of the hearth. Two half-emptied mugs of tea, still faintly steaming, sat on the table between them. The occasional quiet sthick of Link’s whittling and the clack of her needles were the only sounds to break the peaceful silence.

These nights were a far cry from the busy, decadent, chaotic life of the castle a hundred years prior—a life she’d once thought she would always lead.

But now? There was no where in Hyrule she would rather be than here.


	6. Canvas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU

“Hi! My name is Zelda. I’m a volunteer with the Zora Clean Water Action Committ-“

_Slam._

Zelda sighed, shoulders slouching as she turned and retreated towards the sidewalk where Link was waiting for her. One glance at her weary expression and his good natured smile turned down at the edges.

“Another door slam?”

She nodded dejectedly, hugging her clipboard closer to her chest.

“I just want to see the Zora river cleaned. It’s ecosystem is dying—animals are dying… it’s to the benefit of the average citizen… Why can’t they see that? Why won’t they give me a chance?”

She let out a heavy sigh, leaning her head against Link’s broad chest.

“Does nobody care?” she asked mournfully.

Link reached for her shoulders, gently pushing her back to look in her eye.

“People do care,” he said softly, earnestly. “Some just don’t have the time or bandwidth when we stop by, that’s all. People do care—and I’ve got proof.”

His smile returned as he reached into his bag, pulling out the donation envelope and an object wrapped in foil.

“Look at this.”

He floated a check in front of her face, and as her eyes focused on the looping cursive, she gasped, wrenching it from his hands.

“A thousand dollars?!?”

He grinned. “And cookies.”

She tore her gaze from the slip of paper to eye the foil-wrapped item he offered. Folding back the layers revealed two chocolate chip cookies stacked neatly atop one another. She grinned as she reached for one, returning the check to its envelope and turning down the sidewalk.

“See,” he said, “People care. It’s just about finding those who can do something when that something is needed.”

Zelda side eyed him as she took a thoughtful bite, smile ever present.

“Mmm,” she agreed happily through a mouthful of cookie, her spirits rising considerably. “On to the next house then?”

He smiled. “On to the next house.”


	7. Gentle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breath of the Wild

She lifted the small bird with aching gentleness between her hands, expression drawn with worry.

“We should hurry back to the research lab,” she whispered, as though speaking too loudly would cause the small creature pain. “There are supplies there I can use to wrap its wing.”

He nodded silently as she rose to meet his studious gaze, turning with her for their horses. He led hers by the reins the short journey back to the lab, stabling them out front as she hurried inside. By the time he caught up with her, she was busy wrapping the squaking bird’s broken wing with a roll of gauze and tongue depressors in a makeshift splint.

“Shhhh, little one,” she whispered soothingly as she worked, fingers twisting and turning with precise care. “I’ll be done soon, and can give you some willow bark for the pain. Shhh-shhh…”

He leaned against the door frame of the empty office, a stubborn smile pulling at his lips and a sweet ache in his heart. Rocky start or no, he’d never stood a chance. Not against someone so beautiful and tender and gentle as she.


	8. Soft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skyward Sword

“Stop moving.”

Her voice was muffled beneath long blonde hair, her bangs hanging just so to tickle his abdomen.

“I need to get up,” he whispered, staring down at the woman splayed across his half-naked body half-beneath the sheets. She stirred briefly, readjusting her cheek against the slow rise and fall of his stomach before snuggling closer.

“You can be late,” she murmured sleepily, holding him tighter about the hips

“I really can’t Zel—“

“My father’s the headmaster, I’ll vouch for you,” she insisted hoarsely. He wasn’t entirely sure how awake she was.

“But Zel—“

“ _Stop moving_ ,” she insisted, holding his hips tighter.

He huffed, one hand moving to rest on her bare shoulder.

“You can’t be that comfortable…?” he questioned quietly, gently rubbing the smooth skin with his thumb and being no help at all to his stated desires.

She mumbled something in response but he couldn’t parse it.

“Say again?”

“You’re _soft_ ,” she murmured louder, rubbing her cheek against his belly as though it were her pillow of loftwing down instead of the hard planes of his abdomen.

He couldn’t help but smile, leaning back against his own pillow in resignation. Maybe she was right… he could be late.


	9. Focus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In an unspecified Zelda universe

“And so it was that in the fourth year of the third era— _Zelda_.”

The Princess whipped her head from the window, attempting to hide her guilty blush.

“Yes Impa?”

“Repeat what I just said.”

Zelda bit her lip. “You, ah… you were speaking of King Daphnes the first—“

“No, I was not.”

Her tutor frowned, folding her arms across her chest.

“I understand that the weather is lovely today, but your lessons hold higher importance than frolicking in the sun—especially if you expect to take over your Father’s rule when you turn of age.”

Her tone brokered no argument and no sympathy, and Zelda sighed in defeat. She was right, of course. Her father’s health would not hold out forever. She needed to be ready.

“I apologize, Master Impa. Please continue.”

“As I was saying…”

Zelda lowered her head to her journal and resumed note taking as her instructor droned on about the economic policies of the first King of Hyrule, a secretive smile pulling at her lips. Let Impa think she was yearning for the sun. She didn’t need to know her gaze had instead been fixated on a man: the young, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Knight whose bare torso glistened with sweat as he moved gracefully through his paces in the practice yard.


	10. Divine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skyward Sword

Hylia understood the divine. Eons ago had she been born of the Golden Goddesses as she was now. Gods did not have childhoods; did not experience youth. She had always simply been. Simply existed.

She had a divine purpose: to guard the sacred Triforce left behind by her mothers, and to protect her people—born into the world they created. She loved them, as she loved all living things—as she loved the earth and the animals, the rivers and the flowers.

Yes, Hylia knew the divine.

What she did not know, was humanity; what it meant to be mortal—to make mistakes and question one’s actions, one’s identity. To wonder at the world and the nature of things. To feel love as her people did.

Once, as she watched her chosen hero from atop a crimson loftwing cut down Demise’s monstrous hordes, she felt something strange. Her gut churned, her chest tightened, and her heart skipped a beat. And when he slew the last creature upon the battlefield, a strange elation ran through her.

She described this strangeness to a mortal confidante: a Sheikah named Impa who had long served her faithfully. Impa merely cocked her head, gazing at her with a smile in her eyes though her lips betrayed no such sentiment.

“It sounds as though you were afraid for him, your Grace.”

Fear. She understood such an emotion in concept but had never felt it herself, not truly. Fear was mortal. Fear was not the domain of Gods and Goddesses. Fear was not divine.

But when she thought back on that thrill—that elation, her thoughts traveled in an unexpected direction. Perhaps… perhaps she had been divine long enough. Perhaps it was worthwhile to see her people—see _him_ , instead, through mortal eyes.


	11. Injured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breath of the Wild

“I know I have told you this before, though you may not recall: there is a fine line between courage and recklessness.”

Though her words were chastising, her tone was humorous, and Link couldn’t help the upward pull of his lips.

“This will sting a little,” she warned. He nodded, relaxing his arm in her grip as she poured a frothing liquid over the wound. He hissed but remained unmoving as she cleaned the cut and began to methodically bandage it.

“You really must be more careful, Link,” she sighed, pausing in her work to glance up at him. He had the good grace to look chagrined.

“I’ll try,” he pledged, gently placing his free hand atop hers. “I always try.”

She smiled, tying off the bandage before cupping his cheek.

“Thank you, Link.”

Her green eyes held his a moment, sincere gratitude and affection shining within. Then she stood, dusting her hands on her pants as she glanced towards their camp some distance deep in the woods.

“So. Since your arm will need a rest, does that mean I shall be cooking dinner?”

Link grimaced, nodding reluctantly. If spiced pumpkin lizard stew was the price of his carelessness… well, he’d _really_ make sure to be more careful in the future.


	12. Relief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breath of the Wild

“Oh, _Goddesses_ …” she mumbled, head lolling in her chair. Link adjusted his position on the footstool before pressing harder into the arch of her foot, rubbing slow circles over the stiff muscle.

It has been an exhausting month for her, moving the entire Kingdom’s operation from Kakariko into the restored castle. Despite her efforts to foster a smooth transition, there were inevitable problems that weighed on her already overburdened shoulders. When Link noticed her slight limp this afternoon, he’d been quick to offer a solution to the tension mounting in her muscles.

He lifted her leg, taking the heel of her foot between forefinger and thumb. He glanced up, briefly, to see her face. Eyes shut, head back; the picture of relaxation. Perfect.

He leaned in, tilting her foot slightly to expose her ankle bone, and laid a teasing, lingering kiss. He moved his hand to her lower calf, working out the kinks, and his lips followed northward; warm breath followed by warm kisses trailing slowly up her leg.

When he heard her breathing pick up, he paused at the interior of her knee and glanced up. Her eyes were lidded, lower lip between her teeth, gaze meaningful. He suppressed a smirk.

They both knew there were… other ways, to achieve relief from stress.


	13. Light-Headed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twilight Princess

Later, she would see it as a blessing; but at the start of her day, it was a frustration.

“Your Grace? Are you alright?”

She blinked, placing a hand upon the cool stone wall of the castle and taking deep, steadying breaths until the sensation passed.

“Yes… yes, I’m alright. Just feeling a bit light headed. Perhaps I’m overdue a glass of water…”

“Would you like me to send for one?”

“No… no, I should be alright until I return to my study. Thank you, Minister.”

But the sensation lingered. She found herself removing her diadem and running her hand through long brown tresses in agitation, as though enough stimulation to her scalp would somehow curb the faintness plaguing her.

By late afternoon she had given up and relegated herself to an armchair with a small meal and glass of water. But the meal turned her stomach, and she already felt overfull of liquids as it was.

But Link was to arrive at the castle from Ordon in the evening. Perhaps she would seek his council.

“All day?”

“Yes,” she replied as they studied each other over a tea tray not long after dusk. He extended a gentle hand, calloused thumb gently stroking.

“I think you should summon the healer.”

Zelda bit her lip. “I don’t want to cause a stir. The kingdom has only just achieved peace and I—“

“The Kingdom will be in greater turmoil if it’s leader does not tend to her health.”

He watched her steadily, gaze firm and unyielding. She sighed, and summoned the healer.

It was thus that the Queen of Hyrule learned she was pregnant. She didn’t miss the disapproving gaze of the old medicine woman, and once the shock had worn off Zelda pulled herself to her full height, eying the woman steadily and with all the authority of her sacred line.

“On pain of death, you are to share this information with _no one_ ,” she informed tersely with an edge of frost.

Though the disapproval lingered, the woman nodded mutely, offering a begrudging pledge before taking her leave. Zelda fell back against the carved headboard, exhaling roughly.

“Pregnant,” she murmured wonderingly, her gaze rising to Link with a tentative smile. His eyes too glimmered with a quiet joy as he took a seat beside her, reaching for her hand. He squeezed gently. Firm. Reassuring.

“I suppose you know what this means?” he inquired with humor, scooting closer.

“No more secret rendezvous…” she replied wistfully. “We shall have to formalize our affair before the court.”

He rolled his eyes at her formality—Zelda was ever the monarch, before leaning in to capture her lips in a tender kiss.


	14. Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breath of the Wild

She remembers the day she first met him, so many years ago. She watched his wavering figure through a rainy window pane, forehead pressed heavily against the cool glass in the eastern drawing room before her mother’s funeral. His small frame was dwarfed by that of his father’s, a mop of blond hair atop his head which stuck to his face where the rain pierced the safety of their shared umbrella in a sideways wind.

She remembers the cold glass chilling her to the bone as she watched their haggard approach, and feeling grateful for it. It didn’t matter that ‘cold’ wasn’t supposed to be desirable. She felt, and that was something she hadn’t done in many days.

She remembers her father introducing her to Sir Nothiel, the Knight who would be her guard for the duration of the procession through the city; and she remembers Link’s ice-blue eyes as he gazed silently at her by his father’s side, studious yet gentle and tender and far too understanding. She greeted him politely as was expected of her but quickly turned away, retreating to her seat by the window.

She remembers thinking that she didn’t like how he looked at her; couldn’t bear his gaze. It made her conscious of the fact that her heart felt now as cold and devoid of life as the window pane—and equally breakable as glass.


	15. Delightful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern Setting

“Mom,” he hissed in irritation, eying his mother with a despairing glance. She laughed lightly, hefting the album under her arm as she glanced surreptitiously down the hall to where Zelda sat talking with his father at the Kitchen table. “You _promised_.”

She smiled fondly, if regretfully, reluctantly lowering the album.

“Oh, alright, dear,” she sighed. “But I still think she’d like to see those photos of you and Aryll when you were little, that summer we spent in Lurelin—”

“Most of those pictures were of us _naked_ ,” he ground out, pulling the album from her loosened grip and withholding his sigh of relief. She simply rolled her eyes.

“Yes, well, they’re still cute. Especially that one with you two leaning over the front seat of the car, your little bums showing through the rear window—”

“ _Mom_!” he whined, withholding the urge to stamp a foot. He was an adult—an _adult_. Maturity, Link…!

She laughed again, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

“Alright, alright—no baby pictures,” she promised, holding her fingers up in a Hylian Scout salute.

Link mirrored her, leaning against the opposite wall and hugging the illicit album protectively against his chest. He let out a slow breath before mother and son’s heads turned in sync at the sound of his father’s booming laugh and Zelda’s girlish giggle.

“So… what do you think of her?” he asked quietly, willing the heat in his cheeks away.

His mother glanced at him, then back to the pair at the dining table, her smile broadening.

“I think she’s absolutely delightful, Link.”


	16. Passionate (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skyward Sword, though you could read it as just about any ZeLink couple. NSFW.

It was his touch which awoke her.

Fingertips slid up her leg in lazy, wavering patterns—past her curls, over her hip bone, circling her bellybutton before continuing up to her heart. There he stilled, crawling up the bed to lay against her drowsy form, hand pressed gently atop her breast—feeling the slow, rhythmic beats of her heart.

The bed lurched—he shifted, then his hand pulled away and she cracked open her eyes to see his form hovering over hers. She smiled sleepily.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he murmured, voice still rough with disuse, lips pulling up into a soft smile. He bent down to kiss her and she welcomed him with a hand snaking up behind his neck. His lips moved slowly against hers, a delicate rhythm which spoke of tenderness and longing and quiet, simmering passion; a passion which had occupied much of their time the night prior.

After several breathless moments he pulled away, turning those lips to her neck as she panted against his ear.

“Link,” she whispered, warmth filling her body and trickling down to her core like snow melt. He hummed against her neck. “Shouldn’t we… shouldn’t we…”

His lips trailed downward, feather light against her collar bone before rising up the incline of her breast. A hand pressed gently against her hip. His lips circled her araeola, and her back arched into him. Then, he stopped; pulled away but an inch.

“Shouldn’t we what?” he husked, warm breath fanning against her nipple. But she’d quite forgotten what she was about to say—and she suspected he’d intended it that way.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered instead, pulling his head down.

Link was not ostentatious; he was self-possessed in his own quiet way—he always had been. She’d long admired this fact about him, and it had in many ways formed the foundation of their friendship. When it came to their romantic relationship, she quickly learned that this quality applied to his love for her as well. But what she had not counted on was his passion; for like his other romantic qualities, this too was quiet and self-possessed—though no less fierce for it.


	17. Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyward Sword.

It wasn’t until after he had dealt with the strange obelisk in the center of the crater and climbed back up to ground level that he deigned to look around him.

_Trees_.

Dozens—no, hundreds of trees encircled the clearing the sword spirit referred to as the ‘Sealed Grounds’—each as high as the statue of the Goddess in Skyloft. Link spun a slow circle, neck craning to see how far into the sky they grew, his mouth agape and eyes wide with wonder.

“We should continue on into the temple, Master,” intoned Fi in her kindly monotone after several moments of Link’s stillness.

“There are so many _trees_ ,” he breathed, refusing to turn away from the magnificent sight.

While there were trees in Skyloft, they were all the same—all of modest height and sparsely scattered throughout their floating city. But here… there must have been ten or more different types of trees all crammed so closely together they created a near impenetrable wall of green around the Sealed Grounds. He’d never seen anything like it.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he murmured distractedly to Fi.

“There are trees on Skyloft, Master,” the sword replied blandly. He shook his head.

“No—not like this…”

He wondered, absently, if Zelda had seen the trees—if she’d been equally stunned as he when she landed here…

That thought snapped him out of his daze and he turned his head for the large stone door behind him. Zelda—he had to get Zelda back.

“The temple,” he murmured to himself, “Right.”

With purposeful strides he moved towards the intricately carved stone door. Once he rescued Zelda, they could admire this sight together; side-by-side.


	18. Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breath of the Wild

“Hey Link? What’s this?”

Link looked up from the cutting board, glancing over his shoulder to see Zelda taking the stairs down from the loft, a small wooden box held in her hand. He nearly dropped the knife on his fingers in his rush to retrieve it.

“Uh… it’s nothing,” he lied, quickly snatching it from her hand and tucking the object in his pocket. He turned around equally quickly, well aware of how red his face must be as he retreated to the kitchen.

She scoffed. “Nothing? You looked like you’d seen a ghost when you _wrenched it out of my hand._ ”

He could practically see her cocked hip and crossed arms behind him. He returned to his chopping, praying that if he pretended nothing had happened she’d give up and drop the topic.

“It’s just a—a… surprise. I don’t want it spoiled,” he said as casually as he could, the thunk of knife on wood irregular and uneven in his nervousness.

“A surprise?” she inquired skeptically. He nodded without turning around, sliding the diced turnips into a bowl. She sighed.

“Alright, I won’t pry, then,” she said in exasperation, coming up beside him to retrieve the apple and paring knife he’d left out for her on the counter.

“I’m going to go give Epona and Flint their evening treats,” she said with a smile, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I’ll leave you to your _secrets_.” With a playful nudge she turned and headed out the front door.

Link let out a sigh of relief, sagging against the kitchen counter as he pulled the box out of his pocket and slid the top off. A glittering diamond ring sat nestled between folds of satin, and he smiled to himself. It would be no good if she spoiled her own proposal. He was grateful she hadn’t thought to open it herself. He’d have to find a better place to hide it than under the mattress—clearly she’d come across it changing the sheets, despite his best efforts. Snapping the lid shut and returning it to his pocket, he allowed himself a soppy smile.

It wouldn’t be his secret for too much longer, anyhow.


	19. Zombies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zombie AU, inspired by [@Doodleladle](https://doodleladle.tumblr.com/)'s ZeLink [zombie apocalypse AU sketches](https://doodleladle.tumblr.com/post/163158627849/modern-zelda-botw-zombie-apocalypse-au).

Link eyed her sidelong, beginning to worry slightly for her mental health. It had been hours now since she’d picked it up, and despite the added effort of lugging it around she didn’t seem at all interested in leaving it behind.

“So, uh…” Link began awkwardly, wiping away a bead of sweat from the effort of trecking across Hyrule Field’s vast expanse beneath a midday sun. “The stick…”

Zelda glanced at him as she removed her heavy raincoat, said stick clutched firmly in her hand.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask… why you still have it?”

He tried to be tactful, but hours on after she’d brained a zombie with it, it was starting to become a little weird.

She eyed him curiously, as though the answer were obvious.

“Self-defense,” she replied simply.

Link’s brow furrowed. “But… there’s zombie bits on it…”

She shrugged, laying her coat across an arm as she walked ahead of him. “I’m bad at baseball and I got a good shot in with it. It’s lucky.”

Perhaps he shouldn’t have criticized; for it wasn’t ten minutes later Link was jumped by a lone zombie hiding in a copse of trees and zombie-bits stick came to his rescue, greeting his attacker with a firm smack to the face and sending its head toppling into the tall grasses. Zelda simply eyed him with a smug grin.


	20. Imperfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skyward Sword

He remembers the first thing he ever carved her. It was her Loftwing—or, it was _supposed_ to be her Loftwing. By the time he was done it looked like little more than a vaguely bird-shaped blob. He had planned to give it to her as a birthday gift the following day. He thought he had allowed himself plenty of time for his youthful, novice hands to finish the task—but he hadn’t counted on it turning out so poorly.

He cried the night he completed what should have been the carving’s final touches. It looked nothing like what he had envisioned, and even less like her winged companion. He’d had such high hopes—had been so excited to give it to her. In his upset he threw it away, skipped dinner, and cried himself to sleep.

The following morning as he dressed listlessly for Zelda’s party, his mother came to him with it in her hands. She’d found it in the trash, worried it had been lost or unfortunately misplaced. When Link’s tears resurfaced at the sight of the misshapen wooden blob she sat him down, held him tight, and allowed him to regale her between bouts of tears with the sorrowful story.

“You threw it away because it was _imperfect_?” his mother asked, aghast. “But sweetie, you just started carving—“

“But it was _supposed_ to be perfect!” Link tearily insisted against her breast. “It’s her tenth birthday and I wanted it to be _special_ —“

His mother rubbed gentle circles on his back.

“Sweetheart… I know Zelda. She will love it for no other reason than because _you_ made it and put all your heart into it. That’s what’s important. Please take it with you,” she murmured, setting the carving gently in his hand. “Have faith not only in yourself, but in Zelda, too.”

Despite his misgivings he did as his mother suggested and wrapped it in blue paper with a tidy green bow. He held his breath as she opened it before all the other children of Skyloft, preparing himself for her disinterest or, at best, politely confused thanks.

Thus he was surprised when her eyes lit up with excitement and she looked to him with a broad grin, exclaiming, “You carved my Loftwing?!”

He couldn’t suppress his pleased smile, and the warmth in his heart was in no way diminished when Groose gawked at his carving with an unimpressed expression, uttering in disbelief, “ _That’s_ supposed to be a Loftwing?”

Zelda turned to him and pinched his scrunched up nose between her fingers, jerking his head from side-to-side as she affirmed in a no-nonsense voice, “Of _course_ it is—and a thousand times better than your wilted, weedy flowers!”

As Groose nursed his aching nostrils—and his bruised ego, Zelda crossed the room to envelop him in a tight hug, whispering, “Thank you, Link. I _love_ _it_.”

Seven years later, it still sat in pride of place atop her bedroom shelf.


	21. Musical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU

It seems absurd—and perhaps a bit too meta—that he should fall in love with her like this. On its face he can see how it might appear charming: him, playing everyman Bobby Strong, the show’s male lead; and her—sweet Hope Caldwell, the show’s female lead. Two unlikely characters from different worlds falling in love on stage; and two unlikely students from different worlds in actuality, though only he seems to be so smitten. He hadn’t even intended to take theater this semester—whittling was full; and as he learned from her over laborious hours-long rehearsals, it wasn’t her first choice either.

It would seem charming, he supposes—were the musical anything other than Urinetown.

“Somedaaay I’ll meet someone… Whose heart joins with mine… Aortas and arteries aaall intertwined…”

He sings his lines slowly as she holds his head to her breast in a lover’s embrace, and he knows from recordings of the performance what her face looks like: soft, gazing thoughtfully out at the audience with a gentle smile.

This is one of the scenes that has gotten… trying, as time has gone on—as he’s fallen harder and harder for her. When she holds him like this, he can almost pretend her honeyed words about love and dreams are for him, not Bobby; and when the scene winds to a close and their voices grow softer, gentler, slower… when Bobby pulls Hope in close and leans in, he can almost pretend the way her eyes widen is real; can almost feel the longing he desperately wishes were there in the press of her lips when he initiates the scene-closing kiss.

Yes. It would all seem seem very charming, he supposes—were the musical anything other than Urinetown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note for those of you unacquainted, Urinetown is a real musical. It’s about a world suffering drought wherein urination becomes staunchly regulated by a megacorp called UGC–Urine Good Company (har har). Basically you have to pay to pee or you get arrested and sent to what is essentially a gulag called Urinetown. Check it out, it's a kick.


	22. Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breath of the Wild.

He doesn’t know where it came from, but it started following him one afternoon on the outskirts of the Akkala Wilds. The creature seemed unperturbed by the rhythmic jangle of his weapons and paid no mind to his evening campfires. It did, however, perk up when the smell of grilled meat wafted downwind at meal times. It was the lift of its nose, the way it crawled forward cautiously, low to the ground on all fours, that gave Link the idea to try and befriend it.

One evening as dusk was settling he grilled an extra steak, skewered on the stick beside his own, and when the animal began its nightly scoot he pulled it off and cut it into fours, tossing each piece in a line leading toward him. The wolf took the bait, crawling forward and snapping up each piece as though it hadn’t eaten in months; and perhaps it hadn’t.

The closer it moved to the firelight the better a look Link got: Its dark fur was mangy and patchy, and though its coat was thick it could not hide the thin taper of its ribcage into its back legs. It moved weakly, as though injured, and as Link’s eyes roved the creature he spotted a metal cuff around one front leg, and a segment of chain trailing from it along the ground.

With a frown, Link tossed another steak onto the fire, and by the time the animal grew near enough he offered his own.

It took some weeks to ease the animal into closer contact, but after nightly meals of well-cooked steaks it seemed to have decided to trust him. Link approached it slowly, carefully brushing out its coat as it ate. He bandaged small wounds he found, and plucked ticks from beneath layers of fur. When they passed near a lake, he jumped in, coaxing the animal to follow and after a moments hesitation it took a running leap, splashing Link with water. He couldn’t help but laugh.

By the time Link returned to Kakariko to report his success recovering memories prompted by the slate, the wolf could easily have been mistaken for a different animal entirely. It’s coat was smooth and glossy, well brushed and without a single bald patch. It had filled out, no longer thin and reedy but healthy and strong; and the cuff had been removed as well. With time the wolf had become a close friend and trusted traveling companion, one Link could no longer imagine life without.

Impa eyed it curiously over dinner as it stretched out beside him on the floor, lying in a fashion not dissimilar to Link’s own after it had finished its customary two steak meal. The elderly Sheikah scratched her chin in thought, and as Link stretched and yawned the wolf did likewise. She laughed.

“It’s as though it is a wolf version of you,” she commented, then lightly tapped her knee. “A wolf-Link!”

Link turned, eying the animal and reaching out to scratch its scruff. It leaned into his touch, letting out something akin to a mewl. Link turned to Impa and scoffed.

“It may have picked up a few habits from me, but I have far more dignity, thank you very much.”

Impa only shook her head.


	23. Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1940's AU.

Zelda was flitting about the kitchen, arranging and rearranging and arranging again, just to keep her hands busy—just to keep the anxiety at bay. Cans here—no, _here_ … Baking supplies on the bottom shelf so the weight of the flour and sugar bags wouldn’t bend the cheap wood. The crackling voice of the news broadcast coming from the radio was the only other sound: a steady stream of doom saying and waxing poetic about hope and the good still latent in humanity. She couldn’t tell what was true, anymore, and knew it would do her no good to listen—to dwell when concrete information was still days off; but she couldn’t bear to turn it off, either. And so she puttered around, aimless and anxious and fretful.

Until the crackling voice cut out and was replaced by the smooth words of the jazz station disc jockey, announcing the next song.

She looked up from where she was scrubbing the glaze of the tile counter clean off to find Link beside the radio, his fingers still on the dial as he turned to her with a sad smile.

“Take a break, just for a little while, Zel.”

She huffed, tossing her rag onto the counter and crossed her arms.

“I was listening to that.”

The slow, smooth melody of woodwinds punctuated by the brassy tenor of trumpets and trombones emanated from the speakers as he crossed the kitchen. She recognized the song immediately. It had been playing on all the stations for weeks, taking the charts by storm. Yet another hit by Glenn and his orchestra.

He placed his hands gently on her elbows, coaxing her towards him.

“Dance with me?”

She eyed him with a frown, feeling her irritation quickly seeping out of her. She was too worn down to stay angry for long these days.

“I suppose,” she sighed, and let herself be pulled in.

He wrapped one arm around her waist, clutching her hand gently, close to their bodies. As he pulled her closer she placed a hand on his shoulder and rested her head against his chest, the rough material of his suspender strap rubbing against her cheek. He said nothing, merely held her, spinning them in slow, meandering circles about the kitchen. The music was calm and slow, a true serenade. She could see why it had become so popular, now of all times. She let out a sigh, closing her eyes and pressing herself closer.

“I’m scared,” she whispered; as though vocalizing it made it real—made it inescapable.

“I know,” he whispered back against her hair, his hold growing tighter. “But you have me—and we have now.”

Despite herself she felt the corners of her lips pull up in the ghost of a smile, the edges of her anxiety dulling just that little bit. The music swelled towards its conclusion and he spun her, and her smile grew a little more as he pulled her back in. He gazed at her, his eyes tender and soft and his smile sweet. She gazed back.

“Thank you, Link.”

“Of course,” he replied quietly.

Then he leaned in, and kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious, the song is "Moonlight Serenade" by Glenn Miller & His Orchestra.


End file.
